LADY FANSHAWE,

WIFE OF SIR RICHARD FANSHAWE.

ANN HARRISOn was the eldest daughter of Sir John Harrison of Balls, in England; her mother, Margaret Fanshawe, was of an ancient and highly respectable family, the members of which had at various times filled important official situations. The young lady was born in London, March 25, 1625. Mr Hyde, afterward Lord Clarendon, was her godfather. She herself relates a remarkable story connected with her infancy. When she was about three months old, her mother became alarmingly ill with a fever, of which she apparently died. She had been in her shroud two days and a night, when Dr Winston came on a visit of consolation to his friend Sir John Harrison. Looking earnestly at the corpse, the physician said, "She appears so beautiful, that I cannot believe she is dead; and suddenly applying a lancet to her foot, the blood began to flow. The application of powerful restoratives renewed the suspended functions of animal life. When she opened her eyes, her relatives, Lady Knollys and Lady Russell, were

bending over her. According to the fashion of the times, they wore large, wide, sleeves, which might easily be mistaken for wings. Lady Harrison's first exclamation was, "Did you not promise me fifteen years? and have you come again?" Her friends attributed these words to the delirium of ex. ceeding weakness, and begged her to keep very quiet. When several hours had elapsed, and her faculties were perfectly restored, she desired to be left alone with her husband, and Dr Howlsworth, their clergyman. When her request had been complied with, she said, "During my trance I was in great quiet, but in a place I could neither distinguish nor describe. The idea of leaving my little girl remained a trouble upon my spirits. Suddenly I saw two by me, clothed in long white garments, and methought I fell down with my face in the dust. They asked me why I was sad in the midst of so great happiness. I replied, 'O, let me have the same grant given to Hezekiah, that I may live fifteen years, to see my daughter a woman.' They answered, 'It is done :' and at that instant, I awoke out of my trance."

This excellent woman recovered her health en. tirely, and lived, as she had ever done, in the constant exercise of piety and benevolence. She died on the 20th day of July, 1640, exactly fifteen years from the period of her trance. Dr Howlsworth preached her funeral sermon, in which he told, before hundreds of people, the remarkable story we have just related.

Ann Harrison was educated like most gentlewomen of that period; being well instructed in French, music, dancing, and every variety of ornamental needle-work. Blessed with vigorous health, and overflowing with animal spirits, she was gay even to wildness; but though she delighted in riding, running, and all manner of active exercises, her manners were far removed from anything like boldness, or immodesty.

The death of her good mother checked the somewhat excessive vivacity of her character, and placed a salutary restraint upon the thoughtless freedom of her youth. At fifteen years of age she took charge of her father's house and family, and fulfilled her duties in a manner highly exemplary.

At this period all England was troubled with the disputes between the King and Parliament, which afterward terminated so fatally for the injudicious monarch. Sir John Harrison was a devoted royalist, and of course became deeply involved in the difficulties and dangers of those perilous times. His son, William Harrison, being a member of the House of Commons, in 1641, pledged his father to lend one hundred and fifty thousand pounds, to pay the Scots, who had then entered England; and this immense debt remained unpaid until the restoration of Charles the Second. In 1642, Sir John Harrison was taken prisoner at his residence, called Montague House, in Bishopgate Street, London. His dwelling was plundered of everything valuable, and he was threatened with being sent

on board ship with many others of the nobility. Upon the pretence of obtaining certain writings relating to the public revenue, he made his escape. In 1643 he went to Oxford, and was a member of the Long Parliament, by means of which he lost the remainder of his fortune, and all his estates were sequestered. His two daughters resided with him at Oxford, in miserably uncomfortable lodgings. These young ladies, who had from infancy been accustomed to all the elegance and luxury of wealth, were suddenly reduced to such poverty that they had scarcely a change of clothing, and were obliged to sleep on a hard bed in a wretched garret. Surrounded by companions in distress, by sickness in various forms, and hearing of nothing but the horrid chances of civil war, their situation must have been desolate indeed; yet the unfortunate loyalists are said to have borne all their privations and sufferings with a cheerful fortitude worthy of a better cause and a happier fate.

At this period Charles the First, who had nothing but empty honors to bestow, offered a baronetcy to Sir John Harrison; it was gratefully refused upon the plea that he was too poor to support the dignities he already possessed. William Harrison, who had joined the king when he set up his standard at Nottingham, died in 1644, in consequence of a fall from his horse, which was shot under him in a skirmish with a party of the Earl of Essex. Not long after her brother's death, Ann Harrison was married to Mr Richard Fanshawe, one of the

relatives of her mother's family. The bride was a little more than nineteen, the bridegroom about thirtysix. The wedding was very private; none being present but her nearest relations, her godfather, Sir Edward Hyde, and Sir Geoffry Palmer, the King's attorney. Mrs Fanshawe was married with her mother's wedding ring, according to the express desire of her deceased parent.

Richard Fanshawe had been educated a lawyer, in compliance with the wishes of his mother; but the study was ever disagreeable to him, and when her death left him master of his own actions, he indulged his strong inclination to travel in foreign countries. He went to Paris with no greater supply of cash than five pounds; but it proved luckly for him that some of his wealthy relations were residing in that city. The very night he arrived, two friars came to his lodgings, welcomed him as their countryman, and invited him to play. The inexperienced young man, suspecting no mischief, agreed to amuse himself in this way until supper was ready. The cunning friars did not leave him a single penny; but when they found he had no means of paying for his supper and lodgings, they loaned him five pieces of his money, till he could apply to some of his friends for assistance. This lesson was never forgotten; during the remainder of his life, nothing could tempt him to play for money. Seven years after this incident, Mr Fanshawe being in company with several gentlemen in Huntingdonshire, was introduced